


taris; an ode to lamentations

by creabimus



Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 00:40:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12377412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creabimus/pseuds/creabimus
Summary: Juhani and Revan talk before the final battle on the Star Forge.





	taris; an ode to lamentations

Paragons of the light are not Juhani. They are not Bastila. They are not Revan. Intangible, they must be, when sitting atop their high rise chairs in far off council chambers with windows like gapping mouths taking in the supposed serenity of the world in which they live. 

Paragons of the dark must be just as intangible. If it were not so, Revan could not exist as she now does. Bastila could not exist as she once did. Forgiveness could not have so allowed Juhani to walk in the path of uncorrupted stars. 

But are they so uncorrupted, in the end? 

“Revan.” Before Juhani says anything further, she holds her lower lip between her teeth. The walls of the Ebon Hawk’s cockpit shrink, close in, and Juhani has never been claustrophobic but now feels her throat tighten.

“Juhani,” and, oh, Juhani would listen to the way the syllables of her name roll of this woman’s tongue for the rest of the millennium if she could. Revan’s eyes are flickering stars, the gritty sands of Tatooine, the answer to every question Juhani has ever asked. “You’re strong,” Revan reassures her, “don’t doubt yourself. Please.”

“You say that as if it’s so easy.” 

Then, Juhani’s eyes widen. “I’m sorry - “

Revan shakes her head. She smiles - barely, briefly, but it is a smile nonetheless. “You’re right,” she tells Juhani. Again she smiles, and bubbles of kolto emerge in Juhani’s chest. 

“But I should not have said such a thing, especially not now.” 

“No,” Revan agrees. She sighs, then, and her shoulders sag. Kaleidoscope cosmos flicker in and out of Juhani’s vision, and now an ache spreads out from her chest. Kolto never does last. It performs its duty as a healing agent and disappears. Perhaps Juhani expected too much. It is, after all, only kolto.

“You  _will_  win, Revan.” The words ghost across Juhani’s lips. They fall from them in the imitation of one of Dantooine’s waterfalls. Her lips just barely purse. “I know you will, because I know  _you_.” 

When Revan’s brown eyes meet Juhani’s own, her the corners of her lips lift upward. “I’m afraid I will.” And she laughs. A short, abrupt sound stifled to silence just as suddenly. Revan leans back in the pilot’s seat, and Juhani almost laughs. Her short stature makes the chair almost dwarf her body, and even if she can pilot the Hawk if need be Revan looks so out of place. If Carth were here, he might even comment on the strangeness of it and ask if he’s really needed here anymore. 

(He and Revan are like twin halves sometimes. There’s a closeness there Juhani wonders about even if she does envy. She doesn’t ask about Taris, but she wants to. Not even about their time on it, but if either of them feel a lingering towards it. A phantom pain regarding it.)

“What am I supposed to do after this, Juhani? After I defeat Malak?” 

Juhani takes Revan’s hand. She squeezes it, laces their fingers together, and notes the warmth. It’s easy to imagine the hilts of her lightsabers fitting into the palms of her hands, but not because Juhani’s seen how natural it looks thousands of times now. Some people are meant to instigate change. Revan is one of them. In all of her lifetimes, in every iteration of herself, this will never falter. 

Juhani lifts Revan’s hand to her lips. “I do not know,” she admits, “but I will be with you. We all will be with you, if you want us. If you will have us.” She knows the answer, but she still says the words. Now, Juhani occasionally likes to say too much to fill in the empty spaces. Then it, for better or for ill, becomes real.

“If you will have me.” 

Even though Revan cannot see her, Juhani smiles.


End file.
